


Call, Girl

by chinesebakery



Series: 16 Weeks [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mutual Pining, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-24 20:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7521961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinesebakery/pseuds/chinesebakery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz and Jemma can't be together for the time being. Naturally, Jemma thinks they should discuss their future reunion. Over the phone. In details.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call, Girl

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to "Off to a Good Start" in which Fitz and Jemma meet and hook up one night, only to discover the next morning that she's to be his professor for the starting semester. Consequently, they have to ~behave~ for 4 whole months.
> 
> As for the title, I have no excuse other than having listened to a lot of FFS lately.
> 
> Thanks to jsimmonss for beta-reading!

Fitz was sprawled on his bed, still in his pajamas and surrounded with textbooks, when his cell started vibrating its way across the nightstand shortly before midnight. He picked it up and grinned when he saw the caller's picture flashing on the screen.

"Pr. Simmons," he drawled. "Did I forget to hand in an assignment?" 

His voice was already slipping into flirty inflections of its own accord. They were rather good at keeping up appearances during the day, but that thin layer of propriety tended to be obliterated during their late night conversation, although neither of them would acknowledge it. 

"Hi, Fitz," she replied brightly. "I'm home."

Fitz swiftly put his books away, settling into a relaxed posture, his arm tucked under his head. "How's Daisy?" 

"The same. She says 'hi'. Well, she says a lot of things, but I'm not gonna repeat every last one of them because– well. You know how she gets."

"O-kay," he chuckled. "Thank you for that, I guess."

"We talked about you a lot, actually."

Fitz winced slightly at that. "Just what a guy likes to hear," he snorted. 

"She has many opinions. About our–  _ situation_."

"I was lead to believe it was an informal meeting between colleagues to discuss various… academic… stuff," he finished lamely, gesturing vaguely with his hand.

"Oh, it was, for the first half hour. Then we had a few drinks. I may be a  _ tiny _ bit tipsy," Jemma added in a loud whisper.

"I can't tell," he swore, grinning into the phone.

Jemma sighed. "See? That's not fair."

"What– what isn't fair?" he asked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You're being sweet, and you're  _ there _ and I'm  _ here _ and we can't–"

Fitz sat up in his bed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Jemma," he said warningly.

"We're not doing anything  _ wrong_." There was a hint of exasperation in her voice. Or was it desperation? "We're not doing  _ anything_."

"Because we  _ can't_," he reminded her. "Not now."

"But don't you think about it? What it's going to be like, when we…  _ can_?"

"I try not to," he croaked. That train of thought was playing horrible tricks on his sanity.

"Because… you're not interested anymore?"

Fitz scoffed at that. "Yeah, clearly I've moved on. I'm  _ completely _ over you," he said, his voice cracking.

"You didn't look over me in class this morning," she said smugly.

"Jemma–" he chided. "We shouldn't be talking about this at all."

"Why not?" she asked, suddenly petulant. "It's past midnight on a Friday evening. I'm having a conversation with a friend on my own bloody phone." 

"I know, but–"

"Do you trust me to grade you fairly, no matter how much I like the way you look naked?"

He chuckled awkwardly. "Of course," he said, rubbing his eyes with the heel of one hand. He never had any doubt about that. "I don't want to get you into trouble."

"I'm pretty smart, Fitz. I won't get caught."

"Really? Cause I thought–"

"Really. Fitz, it's been 2 months," she huffed dramatically.

He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. "I'm well aware of how long it's been." 

Going without sex for several months at a time was certainly not an unprecedented experience for him, but he'd never been in a situation such as theirs before. It was almost as if they were in a long distance relationship, except he saw her almost every day. He talked to her, laughed with her– flirted with her. He never had a chance to forget how ridiculously attractive she was, not for a moment.

Jemma huffed with annoyance. "I'll have you know I happen to be a very sensual person–" 

"I remember," Fitz groaned. Boy, did he remember. He probably shouldn't remember it so vividly when they were talking on the phone.

"Fondly, I hope," she said, her voice teasing, and he could tell exactly which of her smiles she was sporting right this moment. 

Fitz cleared his throat. "You could say that."

"Well, I have thought about it. Our… reunion," she said, lowering her voice to barely above a whisper. "I"ve thought about it  _ a lot._"

"Jemma," he growled into the phone, squeezing his eyes shut. Why did she keep expecting him to be the voice of reason? Her words ricocheted through him, stirring things he would much rather not have stirred when he was trying to have a polite conversation.

"What did you plan on doing the day we're finally free to do… Whatever we want to do?"

"Afternoon at the museum, then dinner and a movie?" he suggested cheekily.

"We could do that.  _ Or_," she countered, rolling her eyes so pointedly he could hear it over the phone, "you could come find me in my office the moment your final grades come up, and I would gladly go down on you to celebrate."

For a moment there, Fitz forgot how to properly breathe. He wasn't surprised, exactly. He knew she enjoyed shocking him, but she was usually more subtle about it.

The past two months had been trying. Fitz was an excellent student, always had been, the only threat to his academic success, so far, being his incapacity to handle boredom. With Jemma, though, everything was different. She was distracting. What he felt for her was distracting. He struggled to focus, to pay attention in class –to anything but  _ her– _ and he had a feeling she was well aware of that.

"I mean," she continued, undeterred, "I don't think I could wait for the day to be over. I wouldn't want to wait for a moment longer. Would you?"

"I– I don't know," he said dumbly. Well, that was her bloody fault for robbing him of his ability to think.

As his hand slipped under the waistband of his pajama bottom and wrapped around himself, he tried to remember the feel of her smaller hand. The heat of her mouth. The sound of her voice when she was edging toward orgasm... He felt like a damn perv, but was powerless to stop.

_ It's just to take the edge off, _ he told himself. _ Release some of the pressure.  _

"Then I suggest you think about it," she teased.

"I'm thinking about it," he admitted, and winced at the choked sound of his own voice.

"Fitz?" Jemma sounded a little shaky, too. "Are you..." She let the question hang in the air while he experienced what might have been a series of minor heart-attacks.

_ Shit. _ How could she tell? And could he possibly deny it? He really didn't want to lie to her, but he couldn't very well admit to jerking off to the sound of her voice while they were having a perfectly normal conversation, could he?

"I– I–" Fitz stuttered as mortification threatened to suffocate him.

"Because I am," she admitted breathlessly, and this time he couldn't hold onto the moan that had been threatening to escape his throat from the moment she had admitted to often thinking about their future reunion.

"Bloody hell," he hissed as a jolt of want hit him so hard it was almost painful. "Jemma–"

" _ Good_," she said, her voice trembling. "Don't stop."

He could imagine her as clearly as if he was seeing her, lying naked on top of the covers with her legs parted wide and her hand working between her thighs. Her little sighs and gasps of pleasure filled his ear, real ones, but softer and less urgent that the sounds he remembered her making when he first buried himself inside her.  

"Oh, _ fuck_ ," he groaned again, far past caring how desperate he sounded. His hand was pumping up and down his shaft now, no longer merely stroking, as he concentrated on a mental picture of Jemma with her legs spread open, touching herself while thinking about  _ him. _

  
Could she be persuaded to reenact that scene once they were done with that stupid semester? He'd never thought of making a bucket list before but if he ever did,  _ that _ would easily be item #1.

"Say my name," she whimpered on the other end of the line. "Say my name _ like that." _

He heard a shuffling sound and imagined she was tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear so she could toy with her breasts. Damn, he wanted to map out all those freckles with his tongue. Again.

" _Jemma_ ," he rasped, his voice hoarse. "God, you sound– you have no idea–"

"I wish you were here," she panted. "I wish it was your hand. I would give anything–"

"God, me too," he replied pleadingly. 

If he could tear his hand off himself right now, if he just put on some jeans and walked to his car and kept his head on straight long enough to drive all the way to her place… In twenty minutes, they would be writhing together in her bed.

"What would you do? If we were together?" she asked, and  _ God_, he would never get enough of her breathy voice. He wanted to do that  _ every day. _

He squeezed his eyes shut. The first image that came to his mind was that of Jemma sitting on the edge of her bed, her legs spread wide, while he was knelt before her with his face between her thighs, gripping her hips to pull her closer. "I want to get you off with my mouth. I want to lick you up until you can't take it anymore. I want–"

"Do you want to fuck me, Fitz?" 

"Yes. God,  _ yes_," he grunted. He'd never heard her voice so raw, so crudely sexual, even during their one night together, and it was tearing down all his inhibitions.

"I want you to. I think about it everyday," she confessed, panting. "Every time I see you, every time I hear you voice."

"Me too," he admitted. "Sometimes when you wear skirts in class I want to wait until everybody's gone and bend you over your desk." He gulped, tightening his grip on his cock just a little more. "I'd pull your knickers down and take you from behind right there in your class."

"I wear those skirts for you. I see the way you look at me. I know what you're thinking," she said hoarsely, her voice breaking. 

"Do you like torturing me? Does it excite you?" He was hanging on to her every sigh like a lifeline, determined to give her pleasure, and desperate for her to reach her peak before he allowed himself to let go.

" _Yes_." She sounded as close as he felt now, just a few strokes away. 

"Does it make you wet?" He couldn't hardly think anymore, every last one of his muscle tight and ready for his imminent release. 

" _So wet,_ " she cried. "You have no idea."

"Fuck, I want you so much. I can't stand it, Jemma. I gotta– I need to be inside you again."

He couldn't speak anymore, couldn't gather his wits long enough to describe how badly he wanted to come inside her, all wrapped up in her heat and her limbs and her voice. Her breathy moans were turning into raspy cries of completion, and Fitz couldn't hold himself off a moment longer. He came with a choked groan, his release spurting over his stomach, as he clutched the phone to his ear with his other hand.

The quiet stretched between them as Fitz lay flat on the bed, loose-limbed and exhausted, as he tried to regain his breath.

"So," Jemma said after what felt like the longest silence to ever settle between them, "I guess the last few weeks are going to be the longest."

Fitz felt a surge of anger disturb his hazy state. She was right, it was absurd and  _ wrong_, her lying alone all the way over there, thinking about him, while he was doing the same here,  _ had been  _ doing that every night for the past two months, and would in all likelihood be doing the exact same for the next 8 weeks felt completely unbearable.

"I could drop out," he said fast, before he lost his nerve. "Take another class next semester." The thought had occurred to him a few times, but he'd never considered it seriously before. 

"Ugh, Fitz," she griped. "Don't be daft. We've come all this way! Besides, I'm a better teacher than Dr. Hartley. You'd be sorely missing out."

Fitz couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Good to know your ego's as healthy as ever."

"Oh, you're one to talk, Mr. This Assignment Is Beyond Me."

"Hey," he exclaimed in mock outrage. "It's  _ Dr.  _ This Assignment Is Beyond Me."

Another silence threatened to lengthen between them, until it was interrupted by Fitz's sudden and very audible yawn.

"I should probably go," Jemma said, her own voice rendered thin with weariness.

He nodded dumbly instead of replying. "I wish you didn't."

"Fitz–"

"I know, I know. Night Jemma." 

After they hung up, he checked the time on his phone. 8 weeks, 3 days, 9 hours. How he was ever going to keep a modicum of composure, let alone keep some focus during a Biochem lecture after that enlightening conversation for _ two whole months _ remained to be seen.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr > chinese-bakery


End file.
